#TLT - Jan 11, 2024
May your life have poetry and your poetry, life—
prompt word: morning
three line poetry
Write something that will move us! Inspired by the photo above. Post your poem in the comments and comment on others.
Also, if you have an X (Twitter) handle, include it below your submission.
keep it about the words
- Brevity is Key
- 10 words MAX per line
- 3 Lines
- No Titles
- DO NOT include the prompt word
when
A new prompt will appear on the blog each Thursday at 12 am EDT.
where
Post your entries in the comment box of the current week's prompt.
why
Fostering healthy habits of creativity and connections.
Three Line Thursday
What can you say, convey, or express in only three lines? Can you paint a visual picture with only words? Tell an entire story that begs to be read?
#TLT Use the hashtags and share on social! #comelaydownink
Use your imagination. Poetry, Haiku, Senryū, Free Verse, Prose, Flash all are welcome. (Please no graphic use of excessive profanity or overtly disturbing mental images. Let’s use common sense.)
One word per line, fine. Ten words per line (max), fine. As long as it fits in the comment box in three-line format, it counts. Simple, right?
Read other entries and comment. This is a positive forum for feedback!
14 thoughts on “#TLT- Jan 11”
Dawn, face at my thigh, awakens,
legs uncovered, orange bonfire lava sears molten sky,
melts windshield tears with wanton.
Monks parade by on Dutch dew,
chanting Dies Irae in the must morning mist,
a mantra of Delft dawn welcoming this early riser.
you feed me
upon awakening
leaving discards in your wake
the careless sun hurls light into the void
– 8 minutes pass –
“Look, now! A glimmer in the dark!”
@ewanandsmith
I love this Ewan, the rhythm and suspense! Wonderful!
leftovers
from this morning’s argument …
half-eaten words
Love the food/words mixture in this, Firdaus.
So good!
Blood on a bleached out heart
I eat my pain
Macerate feelings into dust bitter as a lie
@floweringink
Great words, Susan. So raw.
Thank you!
Sunrise frost, January’s mistress,
A pine bough, silver bells, and scented lair,
This winter’s vagrant heart stares.
This really captures the feel of winter in our souls, Misky.
Lovely!
Comments are closed.